monsterproofing
by lastofthecrimelords
Summary: brittany is convinced there are monsters under her bed. santana's not so sure.


A/N: Okay, I recently got a review on my latest Glee fanfic reading: "Interesting level of goffic sadness, but make sure you don't start on any of that My Immortal stuff anytime soon." This remark terrified me so much I decided to branch out and do a little bit of fluff. It's a very little bit. Fluff kind of goes against my nature.

Anyway, feedback is very welcome, even if it is abusive or trying to sell something. Love y'all.

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><p>"Brittany, what are you doing under there?"<p>

"Monsterproofing," came the muffled voice from under the bed.

Santana let out a long, weary and almost audible sigh, and cast her eyes up toward the bedroom ceiling. Doubtless, this would be turn out to be another one of those lengthy conversations that consisted essentially of Brittany producing some hare-brained idea or inane scheme and Santana shooting it down in flames. "Monsterproofing?" she repeated, resigning herself to ten minutes spent struggling through the weird, strobe-lit, psychedelic forest of Brittany-Land, as she thought of it.

"Uh-huh." Brittany, having finally succeeded in pulling herself out from underneath the bed with the use of her elbows, sat up and gazed seriously at her friend. "I'm protecting against possible future monster infestations."

Santana flopped down on the bed next to her. "Brittany," she began in the tone that she had perfected over the years, as slow and as clear as possible, as if talking to a rather dull-witted two-year-old. "You don't really still believe in the monsters under the bed, do you?"

"Um, yeah." Brittany gazed at her blankly, furrowing her brows. "Of course I do. Some of them can be pretty scary, too. Wouldn't you rather be prepared?"

"Of course I would, but – "

"I mean," Brittany continued, seemingly determined to make her friend understand the severity of the situation, "imagine if you were all curled up in bed, maybe with Puck or someone, when suddenly this sabre-tooth beaver with laser-beam eyes leaps out from under the mattress and – could you hold onto that flashlight?"

Santana felt her will to live ebbing away.

"Um, sure," she said tiredly, taking it from Brittany and tossing it from hand to hand. Sabre-toothed beavers with laser eyes? Where did she get it from? Sometimes, Santana envied the other girl her wild imagination. What must it be like to look at things that way? To see Rapunzel in every tower, and fairies in every tree? To think that babies were delivered by storks and Santa Claus came down the chimney every Christmas to drop lip gloss and Katy Perry CDs in your stocking? It seemed incredible that the world could be viewed so innocently.

Not, of course, that Santana actually wanted to _be _Brittany. That would be ridiculous. She'd have to chop her own head off for a start, because she'd be annoying herself so much.

"Just point it under the bed," Brittany said, bending down again. "I can't see the corners properly."

"Britt, you do know that – "

But Brittany was miles away. "And then there's sock gremlins and hobo vampires with teeth made of traffic cones…"

Santana shook her head. "You sure you're not making this up, Brittany?"

"I'm not making it up," Brittany said seriously.

"Right."

"There's even Steve, the dust bunny. He's sort of okay, really, but do you want him setting up a little squat under our mattress, having parties and stuff all the time?" Brittany rocked back on her heels, blinking up at Santana in that slow, cat-like way she somehow found both irritating and adorable. Maybe the time had come to humour her, for entertainment if nothing else.

"Steve doesn't sound like an altogether bad person, though," she said thoughtfully.

Brittany shrugged. "Maybe, but he might hear us having sex. And that could be kind of embarrassing."

This remark hung in the air like the last wafts of Chanel No. 5. There was a beat or two of silence as Santana struggled to recover herself.

"Right…okay, so maybe that back corner could use a little more monsterproofing."

Brittany's smile was wider than ever. "That's what I figured. Can you help me with it? I just need you to hold the flashlight."

"Sure, if it means you'll shut up about Steve the dust bunny," Santana said, scrambling up off the bed and dropping to her knees beside her friend.

She angled the flashlight so Brittany could spy out the 'monsters', and Brittany smiled at her. "Thanks. You're the best, you know that?"

_Oh, God. Why do I do this to myself? _Santana thought, rolling her eyes.

But even in her exasperation, she realised it was a rhetorical question - and when Brittany squeezed her hand tightly before disappearing back under the bed again, Santana knew she had her answer.


End file.
